


Ho! Ho! Oh! No!

by warmfluffypastries



Series: 12 Days of Fic-mas [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Christmas, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hallmark Movie Plot, Married Couple, Pregnancy, Secret Marriage, Twelve Days of Fic-mas, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:38:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21805783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/warmfluffypastries/pseuds/warmfluffypastries
Summary: Clarke Griffin is fully loving her life, she's finishing her residency, preparing for her fellowship. Loves her husband, loves her friends...loves the town of Darby, Montana where she was assigned to complete her internship and  residency. What she doesn't love is when her mom shows up with her new husband.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Series: 12 Days of Fic-mas [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1571284
Comments: 19
Kudos: 207





	1. Darby, Montana

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first multi-chapter endeavor in well over...10 years?! Holy crap, I'm old! Anyway hope you enjoy.

If you had asked Clarke Griffin nearly three years ago when she’d made the decision to match outside her home state of Virginia for her internship and residency; if she’d ever be able to imagine herself in a tiny rural town just south of Missoula, Montana she’d have laughed in your face. But now, not only is she in love with tiny town living, she’s considering making it a permanent move. Her mother is adamantly against the decision and Clarke expects to hear from her pretty much everyday from now until she has to make her final decision about where to begin her fellowship.

She’s finishing up a ‘night’ shift, they run from 10-10 around these parts and Clarke absolutely loves it; she also loves the fact that once she leaves for the day she won’t be needed back for a shift until after Christmas; of course she’ll be on call just like everyone else at the hospital, but they will cut it back to a bare bones operation for the holidays.

Clarke sighed as she signed the last in a large stack of patient files. As was normal this time of year, her sinuses were causing her an epic headache and her eyes were starting to water from the sting of dryness.

“Just imagine if you took the time to sign those once a week instead of once a month,” a bright voice teased, as Clarke finally set the files in the stack to be filed. She turned then, taking in the perky blonde in a bright holiday-print scrub top over a long-sleeve thermal tee and jeans lined in flannel.

“Then I wouldn’t get to experience the absolute joy of watching you file all 30 patients at once,” she grinned tiredly in reply, “Honestly, you should be thanking me, if I did these weekly, you would be bored right now.”

“Ahh, ever gracious you are,” Harper gave a tiny chortle as she began to sort the files Clarke had just finished.

“I know,” Clarke nodded, “so, how’s my adorable god-son?”

“Not sleeping through the night, that’s for sure,” she pulled her phone from her back pocket to show off her newest lock screen, “but that gummy grin, makes it all worth it.”

“God Harp,” Clarke nearly moaned, could practically feel her ovaries spasming as she took in the scrumptious 8-month-old in his tiny footie pajamas adorned in elves, reindeer and tiny teddy bears.

“Hate to break it up ladies,” a deep rumbling voice called as the air gives a woosh, the automatic doors letting in a chilly breeze, “we’ve got incoming.”

“How many, Nyko?” Clarke handed the phone back to Harper, grabbing her winter coat and then a paper drape and sterile gloves. Stepping around the intake counter and straight through the sliding doors of their tiny rural ER.

“Just 2, car slid into a ditch just before the town limits,” the older doctor replied, “People thinking they know how to drive on snowy roads.”

“Hey Doc,” EMT John Murphy smirked at the pair as he hopped down from the front of the rig, “Doc.”

“Hilarious Murph,” Nyko grunted, grabbing the opposite side of the gurney after he’d opened the rear doors, and together he and Murphy pulled it from the ambulance, “Emori.” He greeted the brunette beauty who was helping an elderly woman step down from the rig.

“Dr. Nyko,” she nodded back gruffly, “you want the concussed driver, or the shattered femur passenger?”

“I’ll take the concussion,” Clarke jumped in, smiling at the woman making her way into the ER under her own power.

“Not fair, Griffin,” Nyko called as Clarke ushered the woman behind a festive red and green plaid curtain. 

“It’s my turn,” she called back brightly as Nyko, Murphy, and Harper wheeled the elderly gentleman past.

\-------------------

“No Mom, I’m sorry,” Clarke rubbed at her temple as she clutched the phone, “there are only 3 of us at the hospital so I can’t really take the time off; especially with our weather, we never know when someone will be able to make it in.”

“I still can’t believe that this was your match,” Abby grumbled down the line, “It’s been over 2 years since I’ve seen my daughter in person.”

“I know Mom, but just think...come July I’ll have finished my residency and then I have tons of options.” Her mother didn’t need to know that just that day she’d elected to stay on at the rural hospital in the tiny town of Darby, Montana she’d been matched with over 3 years ago. Just like she’d never bothered to explain why she’d never checked any box other than rural on her match paper. She’d needed to escape the bustling city; over-crowded hospital, and overbearing mother. 

And she’d never been so happy for such a rash decision before in her life.

“Well,” Abby sighed, “please make sure you call on Christmas Eve and Christmas morning, okay?”

“Okay Mom,” she nodded as if the woman could see her, “now as you know, hospitals are busy; and I have to go.”

“I love you sweetie.”

“Uh huh, you too. Talk soon,” Clarke quickly hung up.

“I’m glad my daughter doesn’t talk to me that way,” Indra, Chief of Darby Hospital spoke as she passed Clarke into the tiny doctor’s lounge.

“I’m sure you don’t speak to Gaia the way Abby Griffin speaks to me,” Clarke laugh, “in fact I know you don’t. Sorry about that, by the way. Normally she waits for me to call her.”

“Well, I hope you aren’t still blaming the hospital for not visiting your mother at Christmas time.”

“You know I am,” Clarke smirked at her, “but it’s also reasonable, you know we can’t afford to have doctors out of town.”

“And the fact that she doesn’t know you’re married? Blame that one on the hospital as well?” She raised an eyebrow, letting her disappointment show.

“Thanks for the guilt trip, Indra.”

“Anytime, dear.”

\-------------------

Bellamy Blake brought his hatchet down one last time as the final piece of wood split apart. He easily slid the tool into a loop on his belt before he tossed the last two pieces of firewood into the back of his pickup. Carefully hauled himself into the cab of his classic Ford and cranked the heat to full blast before slipping the gloves off his fingers. He checked the bandage of his left hand ensured that he hadn’t popped any stitches or caused major blood flow, he set out toward the picturesque log cabin not 100 yards from the house he was currently parked in front of. There is a steady stream of smoke coming from the main chimney, but the smaller chimneys evenly spaced throughout the roof are not producing the white pillowy heat; as they should’ve been to help counteract the snow currently falling.

When he first purchased the Inn, and the owners cabin, nearly 3 years ago; after returning from his second and final tour in the ‘Stan he’d had a small dream of the place being a destination vacation spot. He hadn’t wanted to become some kitschy Christmas spot, but that had all changed when his then-girlfriend ran rampant over the place with what felt like miles of garland and at least 10 different Christmas trees. The past two years he’s done his best business over the months of November, December, and January. It’s really only in times like these when his sister and her husband can’t make the trip on time that he gets super grumbly about the maintenance involved in keeping the place up for the holiday travelers. 

“Hi folks,” he greets the room full of guests as he enters. He quickly closes the front door behind himself, trying to keep as much heat in and cold out as possible. “Sorry about the mix-up with the firewood, but we’ll get each of your rooms stocked as quickly as possible.”

“Thank god,” Roan, the long-haired, probable male-model, groaned triumphantly, “maybe I can finally take off these extra layers.” He dramatically pulled at the sweater he wore. It took everything within Bellamy not to roll his eyes, he was half the reason Bellamy had decided to go chop the lumber himself. 

“You can have the first load,” Bellamy tried to keep his smile polite, “as long as you don’t mind carrying it yourself?”

“I got ya, brother,” Roan smirked heading out to the truck and Bellamy let out a breath as he pulled the scarf from around his neck. He caught his former Army buddy and all around good guy, Miller, already on his way out to help as well; he hung up his scarf, hat, and coat before heading to the front desk; friend and former classmate Jasper was helping a middle-aged couple check-in.

“--And it looks like you have booked the Mr. & Mrs. Claus suite,” Bellamy caught the last of Jasper’s words of introduction, “Personally, it’s my favorite,” he mock whispered to the pair.

“I just love how festive everything is here,” the woman sighed, “It’s just so quaint.”

He took a deep breath as he nodded toward Jasper letting him know that he would take over. This woman was not insulting his livelihood with her comment; she was just another tourist/out-of-towner with no clue what it took to survive in a tiny town, such as theirs. Not understanding how words like quaint could be so negative, Bellamy had to remind himself of this fact several times through out the holiday season, “I’ve got this Jasper, if you don’t mind helping MIller and distributing that firewood?” 

“Sure thing, Boss,” Bellamy rolled his eyes at the rail thin main before turning back to the Inn’s latest guests.

“Welcome Mr. and Mrs. Kane,” he double-checks the computer before offering them a kind smile. He turned to the row of room keys, proud to see only two left hanging once he picked up the third; “If you’ll follow me, I’ll be happy to show you to your room? This is the main area obviously and you are free to join us nightly for hot coffee, fresh apple cider, hot cocoa, and delicious treats. Through the double doors back there you’ll find our dining room; as I’m sure you read about we’re not a very large Inn so we like to have family-style dining. Dinner is served at 6 each evening; lunch is a noon-time affair although most of our patrons prefer to partake of one of our local spots in the downtown area. Breakfast is buffet-style and we keep it out from 5 to 9 each morning. If you would like a fresh omelette or have any dietary issues I’ll need to know the night before.”

“I do hope our fire is keeping the room warm,” the woman spoke to her husband in a hushed whisper. Bellamy rolled his eyes, sure he is not supposed to be hearing what the woman has to say. 

“Not to worry,” he glanced over his shoulder as they reached the top of the stairs, “just a tiny mix-up with the firewood delivery. But we’ve made sure to keep the common areas nice and toasty. And it shouldn’t take long for all the rooms to get warmed up, Jasper or Miller will get it all taken care of just as quick as possible.”

Mr. Kane took the keys after Bellamy opened the door, “I’ll make sure to keep it stoked throughout the day.”

“And either my wife or myself will be by to dampen it down each night,” Bellamy nodded, pleased to see that Miller had clearly swept past them earlier and was currently knelt by the fireplace and the flames were already billowing nicely.

“Won’t that get cold?” Mrs. Kane questioned, shooting alarmed eyes at her husband.

“We take several precautions to keep all of our guests warm throughout the night,” Bellamy maintained his calm; he’d put together a very informative website that included all information detailing everything pertaining to a stay at _Aurora’s Inn_. As Miller rose from his crouched position Bellamy began his usual spiel, “We provide hot water bottles between the sheets and conveniently heated rugs next to all of our beds. If that is all? We’ll leave you to get settled; again lunch is served promptly at noon in the dining room. I hope you enjoy your stay here with us at _Aurora’s Inn_.”

“Oh please, it’s Marcus and Abby,” Mr. Kane supplies, “we’ll see you shortly at lunch.”

“Of course,” he pulled the door closed.

“Someone is feeling Scrooge-like this morning,” Miller chuckled as they headed down the steps.

“You try sleeping in a cold bed alone.”

“Every night man,” Miller reminds him, “but yours will be full and warm tonight, so cheer up.”

“I know,” he nodded, “thanks again guys. And don’t forget to double up for Captain Pike’s room, you know how he gets about the cold.”

“Got it,” Miller nods, remembering their former commanding officer well.

He stopped then, reaching the bottom of the stairs, when he sees the blonde behind the counter. She’s leaning on her elbows, perusing the guest ledger while munching on a Christmas cookie. Her long hair is braided down her back, the flannel she’s wearing is clearly a man’s and definitely way too big for her, hanging past her swaying hips. He places his hands on the gently swaying waist smirking when she tenses briefly and then leans back into him, “Typically only employees are allowed behind the counter,” he teased in a deep rumbling voice, he knows she loves.

“And what about the wife of the owner?” she responded, glancing over her shoulder at him, her eyes lidded slightly, their focus not quite right due to the sheer closeness.

“I guess that’s allowed,” he pretended to consider her and then playfully rolled his eyes, “I missed you this morning,” he continued, before stealing her lips in a modest peck; cognizant of their surroundings, “how was the hospital?”

“Usual overnight shift,” she shrugged, turning to face him a drape her arms over his shoulders, “a couple came in this morning after sliding into a ditch and Mr. Titus dropped by with another one of his constant worries, but that was it.”

“The lively town of Darby, Montana,” he joked, “and what may I ask, what gives me the pleasure of your company this morning? Usually I don’t see you until dinner when you work the late one.”

“It’s time for me to take out your stitches,” she tapped at the hand still resting on her right hip. He’s quick to snatch his hand behind his back, “Bellamy--”

“I thought Nyko gave me the dissolvable ones,” he tried his hardest not to pout. He wasn’t a proud man when it came to his fear of all things medical; but then again she was completely aware of that. It was probably why she didn’t drag him down to the hospital when he’d managed to nearly sever his hand; and why she wasn’t making him go now.

“No such luck,” she shrugged, turning to face him, “now we can do this the easy way or--”

“Or what?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow at the hands she’s placed on her hips.

“Or I can get Miller to hold you down while I work them free,” she smiled, almost serene, completely fooling anyone unfamiliar with the devious glint to her eyes.

“Fine,” he huffed, glancing around the nearly empty lobby space, “but not here.”

Taking her hand in his, he headed toward the stairs once again. “I need my bag,” she laughed, wiggling her fingers free. She darted back to the counter where she’d left her hefty purse, before rejoining him, “We have a free room?”

“Two actually,” he replied, “Three if you count O and Lincoln; they couldn’t get through this morning with the extra few inches we got last night; which means we’ll probably be staying here until they do; I had to use up what was left of our firewood getting all the rooms here fully stocked.”

“Now I’m glad I didn’t head home,” she settled on coffee table, in front of the couch in the small sitting area of room 8. It was really and truly Octavia and Lincoln’s room for whenever they could visit, Bellamy very rarely rented it out and always made sure it was set up for his sister and brother-in-law. She started digging through her bag as he began pacing distractedly ignoring the medical tape, scissors, and other miscellaneous objects she was placing next to her, “We really need to reconsider the central heating issue.”

“Clarke--”

“Bell,” she cut him off quickly, “I know all your arguments and you know all of mine; and to be honest I was perfectly fine leaving the issue alone; because, baby, when you start chopping firewood and working all those finely tuned military muscles, just unf--” He grinned at the exaggerated sexy face she made, “but you’ve yet to hear my newest and what I consider to be my best argument for installing heat in our HOME. Also, please don’t think that I haven’t caught onto this stalling tactic, sit please.” She nodded to the empty couch in front of her.

Finally sinking into the seat across from her he offers up his wrapped left hand with a mild look of distrust. She’s gentle as she begins removing the larger bandage she’d wrapped it in the day before, knowing he doesn't always take the necessary precautions to protect himself; “You would think you were GETTING stitches with the way you’re acting.”

He huffed a light chuckle; while she begins gently lifting the tape and gauze away from his palm. He gets a brief look at the black material holding his skin together before quickly diverting his gaze back to her face. Relaxing as he takes in her utter concentration on her work, silently reminding himself there would be no needles involved in the removal process, “so, distract me then.”

She takes pity on him as she begins to cut way the black thread in his palm. “Well…” she trailed off as she wiggled her scissors into the narrow space between his palm and one of the stitches, “I’ve been thinking that if we are going to have an infant in our house by next winter we are definitely going to need a more reliable heat source. Don’t get me wrong, you know how much I love our rustic, back-to-nature, log cabin, but it’s lacking a few modern conveniences that really should be easy fixes.” He was frozen staring at her concentration face, trying to decipher her words, “And I mean, I really love snuggling with you. Your body heat in our bed is ah-mazing, but we aren’t always there at the same time, between my shifts and running this place--”

“Clarke!” he nearly barks, causing her scissors to slip as she jumped at the sudden sound, “What are you saying? Are you---?” he gives a pointed look at her belly. He didn’t even feel the slight poke from her scissors.

“What?” she looks back down to where she’d been focused, checking to ensure she hadn’t drawn blood with her sudden movements, when he’d caused her heart to pause, “am I what?” This time she glances down at herself to where his eyes have focused, before her own words ring back to her, “OH! No! Not pregnant, not me, no!” 

And he can’t help but deflate, as she continues to deny his assumption, “Oh, sorry, you just said--”

“What I said was, IF we are planning on that happening for next winter,” she grinned as his face lit up again.

“So, does that mean--?” he’s afraid to truly ask, they’ve discussed it a lot, especially recently as she prepares to finish her residency and settle into a fellowship. They’ve settled on the fact that they do WANT children, but the timing has been debated.

“I’m finishing up my residency in July and Indra has already offered for me to continue here with my fellowship; so it feels like everything is settling down...and it’s still what you want, right?” she asked, cleaning up from the minor procedure.

“Of course,” his broad smile is blinding, the glow of his face nearly unrecognizable from the man who suffers night terrors sometimes. “Yes, of course, when can we start?”

“I scheduled an appointment with Nyko to have my IUD removed next week,” she shrugged away the hand pushing up her thigh, “down boy; you still have an Inn to run and I need to sleep.”

“I love you,” he says it like a praise and she can’t help but to lean forward and plant a solid kiss onto his grinning face. 

“I love you too,” she promises, gives him one more peck, “now give that hand back to me. I need to moisturize it. You need to do this twice a day for the next few days; it’ll help with the itchy dryness.” She gives his palm a solid few rubs, before pulling at his fingers gently; “also don’t think I didn’t hear that you’ve been chopping wood all morning with your bad shoulder, how does it feel?” she abandons his hand to grip his opposite shoulder, it’d been surgically repaired after an Afghani warlord filled it full of shrapnel.

“A little tight, but nothing a nice icy/hot patch won’t be able to fix,” he promised. 

“Or a massage before bed?” she quirked an eyebrow at him, squeezing his arm once again.

“That too,” he nodded, pulled her hand from his shoulder, and took both of hers into his, “now you go to bed, I’ll see you a little later.” He placed a kiss against her brow, drawing them into a standing position. She gives a mock-salute that causes him to chuckle as he nudges her toward the bed; he quickly changes his mind and draws her back in for another small kiss before pulling away again, “Don’t think this gets you out of giving me a real Christmas present either.” 

“Hey!” she calls to his retreating form; scandalized at the suggestion, “I’ve already gotten your present, thank you very much!”

\-------------

It IS nearly dinner time when she finally emerges again. This time her flannel shirt is her own and she’s paired it with thick fleece lined leggings and heavy winter boots. She spies Miller stoking the large hearth in the main room, Jasper once again manning the front desk; which means Bellamy is one of two places, either the kitchen finishing up dinner or tending to a guest’s needs. It doesn’t take long to figure it out as she rounds the corner toward the community-style dining area. He looks very tense as he listens to what a middle-aged man is saying; and she can tell he is trying very hard to keep it reined in.

“So, if it is at all possible to get a lighter-fare for dinner, my wife would greatly appreciate it…” She gave a wide-berth when she heard what the man was saying. Bellamy was a very accommodating host, but he had very little patience when guests messed with his menu on short notice. Deciding he could handle this one on his own, she headed back toward the entryway to give it a little tidying before dinner was served.

She was half-way through restacking a set of local-author books when she froze. A voice behind her, quietly whispering to it’s companion, unmistakable. She dropped the book in her hand on top of the stack before spinning quickly and confirming her suspicions, “Mom?!”

“Clarke!” Abby grabbed her daughter in a tight hug quickly abandoning her conversation, “It’s so good to see you! Let me look at you,” she pulled back to appraise her daughter fully; and not for nothing, but Clarke could see the sheer joy on her mother’s face, before she pulled her into another hug, this one being returned by Clarke.

“What are you doing here?”


	2. Aurora's Inn

“What are you doing here, Mom?” Clarke asked, pulling back from her mother.

“Well, once you made it clear you would not be returning to Arkadia for ANOTHER year, I decided that I would come visit you,” she declared, “it really is a charming town you’ve found yourself in. But what are you doing here? Do you need more money? You know your trust fund opens next year, but I can cover an advance--”

“No Mom,” Clarke sighed, “I know the owner, usually eat dinner here most nights actually. Perks of small town living,” she smiled at her, and glanced around to see who was within listening distance. She’d never intended to hide parts of her life from her mother, but lots of things were easier left unsaid...until one party shows up without warning and leave the other scrambling.

“Really?” Abby glanced around furtively, Clarke notices the man Bellamy had been speaking with, lurking nearby, “I found the lunch menu a little lacking in variety.”

“Bellamy tends to make one or two options per meal unless he’s given some notice...makes things easier, since he basically owns and operates the place by himself, his sister and brother-in-law will be in for the holidays though. And LIncoln usually goes all out on the cooking.”

“Oh, well that’s just quaint...that he manages to do it all,” Abby frowns for a moment, before lighting up again, “anyway, it’s so amazing to SEE you. And Clarke...you remember Marcus, my husband.”

“Husband?” Clarke questioned, now easily able to place the man who had only just moved into her mother’s penthouse when she’d packed up and moved across the country to start her residency. “Mom?”

“Well we just couldn’t wait--at our age, you know things are a little different,” She shrugged, “but you’ll really love him Clarke, I promise.”

“Clarke it’s so good to see you again, I can’t wait to get to know you better,” Marcus smiled, genuine, it would seem, as he squeezed the hand he’s managed to snatch up, before she could retract it from her mom, “We’re family after all.”

“Uh huh,” Clarke managed to squeak, “If you’ll excuse me for a moment?” She doesn’t wait for an answer as she moves away from them. 

“Oh hey you’re up,” he smiled when she burst through the swinging door into the kitchen. It’s pretty much the only space on the entire property that he went fully modern to renovate and bring up to standard, “good sleep?”

“We’ve got a problem,” she ignored his question. Turning to look over her shoulder, ensuring her mother and, god, step-father, hadn’t followed her. She grabbed both of his hands where he was putting a sprig of parsley on each plate of lasagna, “the newly wed couple in the suite?” he nodded to let her know he’s following, even though she can see the pure confusion, “that's my Mom!” she whisper-shouted at him.

“What?!” A look of pure terror takes over his face, “Clarke! I’ve been a passive-aggressive asshole to them all day.” She opens her mouth to respond when he suddenly perks up again, “why didn’t you tell me they were coming?” he’s tugs at his apron strings to remove it...already moving toward the door.

“I didn’t know!” she’s near shriek level, and then she’s reaching for him, as he tries to pass by her, “Bell--Bellam...Bellamy,” she finally manages to hold him in place, “they don’t know!”

“Don’t know what?” he returned dumbly, glancing at the door, he himself waiting for them to magically appear in his kitchen.

“That I’m married,” she’s quiet as a mouse when she says it, her eyes darting away from his face...she feels him freeze under her hands. “I--I never...I don’t ever see my Mom and we hardly talk, so it didn’t really--”

“Okay,” he nodded, placing both hands on her shoulders, “breathe please.” Together they take a deep cleansing breath, “that’s okay, we’ll just go tell them now, together--”

“No!” Again her voice squeaks, and she can’t help but grumble about it to herself, “I have to ease her into this...she thinks there’s a decent possibility that I’ll move back to Virginia in 6 months, I can’t drop it all on her at once. Just--just let me handle it okay?”

“Clarke,” he has a warning tone, one she has come to know well; he doesn't always agree with her choices, or support them. This might seem a little like her hiding or being ashamed and that’s not it, but she has to do this her own way, “this isn’t--”

“None of this has anything to do with you--and everything to do with her. Just--please, let me deal with it?” her pleas appear to work as his shoulders sag beneath her palms.

“Okay, but just until Christmas. IF you haven’t said anything by then, I’ll tell them,” he sighed.

“Promise,” she crossed her finger over her breast swearing it, she then reaches for the thin solid band on her left ring finger, “hang onto this for me?”

“Clarke--” he groaned.

“I love you,” she cajoled.

“You better,” he growled lowly, “By the way, you’re now eating the lasagna like everyone else, so your mom can have her ‘lighter fare’.”

“But--” she’s about to protest, having seen the small pot of soup he’d been reheating. His eyebrows rose pointedly, “of course. Thank you.”

\---------

Clarke took a steadying breath before stepping out into the dining room. She’d fired off a quick text to the group chat, containing literally anyone she could think of that knew she was married, in case any of their friends had plans to stop by for dinner that evening. Her phone was giving a constant buzz, and she could tell without even glancing at it who and what they had to say about it. She felt her heart stop when she rounded the corner and saw her mother bouncing her God-son gently; talking with Harper as she did.

“Harper!” she squealed, and she paused herself, trying to reign her voice in, “what are you doing here?”

“Clarke!” her mother scolded, Jordan for his part let out a squeal of his own, nearly launching from her mother into his Godmother’s arms, “what’s gotten into you?”

“Nothing,” she waved her hand with what she hoped was nonchalance, “Sorry, Harp, just wasn’t expecting you tonight.”

“I know, but you reminded me earlier that it had been a while since you’d seen Jordan and Monty heard Bellamy was making his famous lasagna and garlic bread, so we decided to come,” Harper smiled as she smoothed a hand down Jordan’s back.

“Well you know you’re always welcome,” Clarke gave her a genuine smile, before turning her attention to Jordan who had taken a hold of the silver shining necklace she was wearing, “and you Mister, who gave you permission to grow so much, huh?”

“I feel like I miss something everyday,” Harper sighed, pushing the infant’s dark locks back from his brow, “but I wouldn’t trade him for the world.”

“She’ll know the feeling one day,” Abby confirmed, swiping a maternal hand down her daughter’s braid.

“Hopefully soon, Jordan needs a little buddy to hang out with, don’t you sweetness?” Harper snuggled into her son’s neck and he squealed again, flopping into his mother’s embrace. Clarke’s heart swelled in her chest watching as Jordan tucked himself into his mother’s bosom and sighed in contentment.

“Not too soon, I hope, she’s not even dating,” Abby added. 

“Right?” Harper laughed, shooting Clarke a questioning look, “but Bellamy--”

“Wow, Harp, you didn’t tell me he was getting so heavy, take a load off,” Clarke cut her off, gently pushing her onto the couch and joining her quickly with a dramatic huff, causing Jordan to giggle.

“You don’t know the half of it,” Monty bounded around the corner, toting a tablet in one hand, “I’ve had to start using the backpack at work. Hi Clarke, long time, no see.”

“Hi Monty,” she grinned, “I’m sure you two make quite the picture hopping around town offering the very best in IT support.”

“Of course, Green and Son, best in Darby,” he laughed with her, “you must be Clarke’s mom?”

“Yes, of course, Monty Green, Abby Griffin--”

“It’s Kane actually, Abby Kane,” her mother interrupted.

“Really?” Clarke turned quickly, trying to make out her mom’s expression, “I didn’t figure you’d want to lose your professional persona.”

“Oh, I’m still using Griffin at the hospital,” Abby waved her off.

“Anyway,” Clarke eyed her suspiciously, “you’ve already met Monty’s wife Harper, and their son, my God-son, Jordan.”

“Rub it in a little more, Clarke,” Jasper exclaims rounding the same corner Monty had moments before and leaning over the back of the couch to tickle Jordan’s side.

“Oh please!” she let out a disgruntled laugh, “they named him after you. Plus, I’m the one who delivered him in the middle of a blizzard in April.”

“Because you’re a Doctor!” Jasper was exasperated, clearly having made this argument several times already, “I should still have been named Godfather!”

“Jasper, if Clarke was going to be Godmother, then it was obvious Bellamy was going to be Godfather.” Harper joined in, “and when was the last time you changed a diaper?”

“Uhhh---” Jasper backed away toward the kitchen, “what was that? I think I hear Bellamy calling my name.”

“Good one bro,” Monty called as Jasper nearly ran over Bellamy emerging from the kitchen.

“Dinner is served everyone,” he announced, and they moved en masse toward the large oak table Bellamy had carved and built himself just after purchasing the Inn.

\------------

After a near-comical chair shuffle, everyone settled at the table. Miller and Bellamy brought plates loaded down with lasagna and baskets full of garlic bread to the table.

“Mrs. Kane,” Bellamy tentatively held out a bowl of french onion soup, the cheese melting over the edges of the bowl, and a small side salad, “I hope this is more to your liking.”

“It looks delicious,” Abby nodded; but Clarked could tell it wasn’t the most authentic response and that just wasn’t fair when she was literally getting the chef’s special and Clarke’s personal favorite.

“I hope you enjoy it,” he nodded taking his place at the head of the table. Normally she sat to his right but her new step-father had taken that seat and she’d been forced down another seat to accommodate her mother as well, “I believe it is Clarke’s favorite.”

“You know it is,” she grinned at him, it was only when MIller, seated to Bellamy’s left, cleared his throat that the room broke out into its usual chatter. Clarke tried to nod approvingly at Bellamy, but Marcus drew him into a conversation and she couldn’t catch his gaze.

“So you have a godson?” Abby questioned, drawing Clarke’s attention back to her mother. “He is quite adorable,” Abby smiled across the table to where Jordan was happily munching on small bites of bread. “But is it really fair to form such a close bond knowing you’re leaving soon?”

“I helped bring that baby into the world,” she retorts, “and I work with his mother nearly everyday; attachments form Mom; that’s how we know we’re human.”

“I understand that, Clarke, but we’re talking about a baby, one whom you’re probably never going to see again, once you leave this god-forsaken town,” Abby hissed.

“Oh my god, Mom,” she breathes deeply, “give the place a chance; it’s not that bad. I really like these people. They’ve accepted me and welcomed me.”

“Well I just think you should be a little more reserved,” Abby cautions before turning and chiming into Bellamy and Marcus’s conversation.

\---------

It was nearly time for Bellamy to retire to bed. “If you two don’t mind, I’m going to go ahead and dampen down the fire for the evening?” He questioned to Abby and Marcus as he rose from the armchair. Clarke was perched on the last couch cushion closest to the chair, their friends had gone home and the rest of their guests had gone to bed already.

“I can do that,” Clarke waved him off as he headed for the stairs, “I’ll see you soon.” He gave her a grateful look as he paused at the base of the steps, “Have a good sleep.”

“Then I will see you folks in the morning,” he tapped his ring against the banister, before climbing slowly to the second floor.

“He really loves you,” Abby observed quietly, with a shake of her head, “you’ve made friends here. You were right earlier, these are good people.”

“I love them all Mom,” she smiled, “I’m not sure if I’ll be able to leave them in July.”

“This place is going to be a dead end for your career,” Her mother remarked, “you have so much potential.”

“Abby, this is Clarke’s life,” Marcus is gently with his wife and Clarke can see why her mother chose this man. “She has to decide what is best for herself.”

“It would just be a shame if all her talent and skill were wasted in such a rural community,” Abby reminds her with a look.

“They deserve the same access to medical care as everyone else. If I can help provide it; I think it is my duty to do so,” Clarke spoke passionately.

“I just think it is worth more conversation,” Abby sniffed and before Clarke can argue further the front door opens with a bang.

“We’re back bitches!” the skinny, toned brunette announces as her tall, muscled companion softly closed the door behind her.

“Octavia!” Clarke laughs, “What would your brother say?”

“Something sassy, I’m sure,” she rolled her eyes, “but he’s gone to bed, the old man.”

Shooting up from the spot next to her mother, she laughs, “Lincoln! How was your trip?”

“It was great, thanks.” Lincoln smiled, “hate to admit how much I actually missed the cold.”

“I didn’t,” Octavia scoffed, “take me to beautiful, sunny beaches, always.”

Lincoln smiled indulgently to Clarke, “sorry, we weren’t able to get the firewood here this morning. We ended up having to drive in from Bozeman, so it took us longer to get to the firewood.”

“It’s fine,” she waved him off, “might’ve actually convinced Bell to invest in central heating.”

“My brother?” Ocativa asked, with a seriously arched eyebrow.

“I know,” Clarke nods and then her mother interrupts with a throat clearing, “oh right. Mom, Marcus this is Octavia, Bellamy’s sister, and her husband Lincoln.”

“Mama Griffin in the house,” Octavia laughs, “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“Are you staying for the Blake Family Christmas as well?” Lincoln asked, only to be elbowed quite swiftly in the ribs, “Ow, Octavia!”

“We’ll have to see,” Abby smiled at the couple, “Clarke if you don’t mind I believe we’ll head to bed.”

“Sure Mom, I’ll be up in a few to tampen the fire,” she accepts her mom’s hug before watching them climb the steps, “Lincoln!”

“What?” he asks, alarmed when both women turn on him.

“Check your phone, babe,” Octavia laughs, “it seems dear old sis here forgot to mention to Mommy-dearest that she ran off and married the innkeeper.”

“Octavia,” she sighed, “I’m working on it, Bellamy’s giving me until Christmas to get it all cleared up.”

\------------

When Clarke returned to their room that night, it was to find Bellamy sitting up in their bed, reading and shirtless, “You are a dangerous man, Bellamy Blake.”

“I believe I was promised a massage earlier,” he grins at her.

“Of course,” stepping to the bed, she begins to crawl towards him, “hey, I know today was full of surprises...but can I just say how amazing you are being about all of this.”

“You have to put up with O a lot, and you let me take the lead on dealing with her. I can extend that same courtesy to you and your family,” he replied easily, “besides I do believe that you gave me some pretty spectacular news today.”

“You know we can’t actually conceive until I see Nyko, right?” she laughs into his mouth as he flips them over and begins to tug at her clothes.

“Doesn’t mean we can’t practice, right?”


	3. Let's Add Jahas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again all my medical knowledge is strictly from some google searching.

The following morning, Clarke managed to walk the tightrope of guests, family, and friends at breakfast. “So I hate to do this to you,” she used her hip to prop open the swinging door of the kitchen as she and Bellamy trucked dishes back to be cleaned, “but Nyko texted that he could squeeze me in this afternoon, so...”

“Yeah,” he smiled, “no, please.” Putting a hand against the door to ensure that it would not swing in on them, he placed a quick, passionate kiss against her lips, “Normally I’d be pissed, but--”

“Fair enough,” she laughed along with him, “so, you don’t mind?”

“No,” he shook his head, “Also, since O came through, and they managed to not only get themselves here but also our firewood, I’m going to get the house warmed up and give them back _their_ room.”

“Okay,” she nodded, “I’m going to take Mom and Marcus downtown to show them around and get some lunch. So you get a reprieve this morning. And I really am sorry about you having to deal with them for the afternoon.”

“_Thank you_,” he dropped his head back as if thanking God, “also, can you figure out what she wants to eat for dinner tonight? I’m not entirely sure what exactly she means by _lighter fare_.”

“Basically a salad,” Clarke laughed, “but I’ll see what I can do,” she promised, “let Miller entertain Pike today? At least for the morning? Spend some time with your sister.”

“Yes ma’am,” he smirked, and gave her a small mock salute.

“What?” she questioned when he continued to stare at her with, what could only be described as, a dopey grin.

“We’re going to have a _baby_,” he lightly shrugged, his grin broadening.

“Not yet, Stud.”

“It’ll happen,” he promised with a wink.

\------------

Clarke balanced shopping bags in one hand and a coffee in the other as she ushered Abby and Marcus into one of her favorite local artisan hotspots. A place where some of her own work had been featured a few times, and a place that contained some of her husband’s hand carved furniture. Her mom had made the decision that morning that they needed to shop...and then she’d been on about their brand new lake house and how it needed to rustic mountain touch, and she was just so sure that she would be able to find _something_ in this tiny town, Clarke had ended up in.

“Clarke!” Maya, the manager and all around bubbly girl-next-door of Darby, shouted when she spotted her, “I saw your latest painting, Bellamy brought it in for framing and I couldn’t help but stare. It’s gorgeous,” she gushed.

“Of course he did,” she rolled her eyes, “and thank you.” He was always stealing her art to hang in random rooms at _Aurora’s_. “Maya, this is my mom and step-father, Abby and Marcus...I was hoping to show them some of the log furniture you usually carry?” 

“Why would--” Maya trailed off as Clarke gave her a pointed look and raised eyebrows at her mother, “it’s all against the back wall as usual.”

“Clarke, this furniture is truly beautiful,” Marcus remarked, running a hand along the smooth and shellacked surface of a headboard. Small logs made up the piece that had been crafted into an entire bedroom suit, “The craftsmanship is impeccable, someone really loves their art.” Clarke practically preened on Bellamy’s behalf at the praise. “This will look great at the lakehouse, wouldn’t you say Abby?”

“Huh? Oh yeah, looks great,” Abby nodded, distracted as she studied her phone. It’d started going off not long after they’d left the Inn and it hadn’t stopped since then.

“Mom?” Clarke questioned when Marcus and Maya stepped away to discuss and handle the purchasing. “What’s so important?”

“Thelonious is working on setting something up, and it’s looking to finally go through.” She smiled broadly, turning back to her phone with determination.

“Mom--” Clarke warned. Thelonious Jaha had been friends with her parents for as long as Clarke could remember; he also happened to be one of the board members responsible for placement at the hospital in DC where he’d donated a bunch of money after retiring from the senate.

“It has nothing to do with you Clarke,” she rolled her eyes, “but I do want to point out that Wells is getting ready to return to DC after his trip to Rome.” Abby and Thelonious had also been angling to get their kids together, for as long as Clarke could remember. 

“I already knew that,” Clarke smirked, “he is still one of my good friends, we do occasionally talk.” 

“Well how would I know that, Clarke, the only time we talk is when I call. And then it is only about the things I specifically ask...but maybe you could be more than just old friends?” Abby suggested, “his political star is about to skyrocket--”

“Mom!” Clarke groaned; she waved to Maya as Marcus returned and ushered them toward the door. “I’ve been telling you since I was 16 that I don’t love Wells like that, we’ll always be friends, but never more than that.”

“Abby, leave the poor girl alone,” Marcus chidded, “besides I think Bellamy is a fine choice. You were the one who said that he is in love with her.”

“For a small town girl, sure, but not Clarke.” All hope that Abby had offered the night before was quickly dashed, as she realized she would never convince her Mom that Bellamy was the perfect man for her. She was always going to be the old-world, old-money type and it would take a miracle to change her mind.

“My love life aside, I don’t think you are giving Bellamy nearly enough credit. He’s a great guy and he has a lot to offer to whomever he ends up with,” Clarke remarked, hoping to get through to her mother. “Now, let’s go get some lunch, I’m starving. Then we can talk about what you might want for dinner, because you are making Bellamy crazy.”

“If he’s going to be offering food at the Inn, he should have many different options for all types of dietary needs,” Abby eyed her carefully, “he should really learn all these things if he hopes to grow his business.”

“Pretty sure he’s not looking to grow Mom,” Clarke sighed, pointing them to a small cafe as they trekked down the street.

\----------

“Hi,” Bellamy smiled at the two gentlemen who entered the front door of _Aurora’s_, “Welcome to Aurora’s.”

“Hello,” the older dark-skinned man smiled, “We have a reservation under Jaha.”

“You booked yesterday, yes?” Bellamy asked as he clicked through the computer system Monty had designed. He’d initially been adamant about going fully old school rustic, but between Clarke and his friends, they’d convinced him that some modern conveniences could go a long way in keeping his business afloat.

“Yes,” he smiled again, “we spoke to some friends and they recommended that we join them. I believe they checked in early yesterday.”

“Oh yeah?” Bellamy grinned, “well I hope all of you enjoy your stay. If I can just get your names, and a credit card we’ll get you all checked in.”

“Thelonious and Wells Jaha,” the younger of the two replied, “Do you happen to know if Clarke Griffin will be around today?”

“She should be around at dinner time, yes,” Bellamy nodded, “I’m guessing then that it was Abby who gave you the recommendation?”

“Yes,” Mr. Jaha smiled, “Wells and Clarke were best friends growing up--Abby thought it would be a delightful surprise for Clarke to see one of her oldest friends at Christmas.”

“I haven’t seen her since her college graduation,” the younger Jaha remarked, “from what I hear she really loves it here though.”

“I do believe that is so,” he nodded. Clarke spoke all the time of how she loved their rustic, quaint town; and not in the way that some of the other rich, white folks spoke those words, but with a genuine longing to be there and consider it home. To be accepted by the people and made to feel as if she belonged. “Now, if you’ll follow me, we’ll get you all settled in.”

“I read on the website that you serve dinner at 6?” Wells asked as Bellamy threw another log on the fire, once he’d shown them to their room. 

“Yes,” Bellamy nodded, “you just missed lunch though; however, there are several local spots downtown that serve a wide variety of food.”

“We grabbed a meal before leaving Missoula,” the older Jaha replied.

“Looks like you guys are good to go then,” Bellamy smiled again, “We’ll be having cookie decorating downstairs at 2.”

“Very well,” Thelonious nodded, and Bellamy left them, heading back down stairs.

“You’ll never guess who brought a bunch of Bellamy Blake originals at Maya’s today?” Clarke bounded up to him at the foot of the steps. 

“No way,” he laughed, catching her hips between his hands, “your step-father’s choice, no doubt. Speaking of which, where are they?” He glanced around as she clung to his neck.

“She had to go lay down and Marcus decided to join her; apparently merely being around our townspeople is enough to exhaust her,” she laughed, “and just so you know, she was begging for a sleigh ride earlier.”

“Thank _God_,” he said to the ceiling, “I was not looking forward to Lincoln and his perfect baking/decorating skills. I will gladly draw the reins so that she and Marcus can enjoy a romantic afternoon sleigh ride. ”

“Oh shut up! You love Lincoln,” she giggled, burying her face against his shoulder.

“I know,” he nodded, “but it’s still nice to not constantly be reminded of exactly how perfect he is.”

“Oh, but that is how you know that Octavia made such a great choice,” she reminded him gently, “If nothing else you know that he will keep her well fed _and_ sugared. I hope you enjoy your afternoon I am off to hospital.”

It wasn’t until the door closed behind her that Bellamy remember he hadn’t told her about her Mom’s guests.

\------------

Abby and Marcus had requested a sleigh ride when they came down from their nap, so Bellamy had headed out to the stables to get things set up and ready for the ride. Thelonious and Wells had decided to tag along, and wanting to give his Dad a chance to catch up with his friends; Wells chose to sit up front next to Bellamy. He’d enjoyed hearing some of Wells stories about Clarke’s childhood.

“--Clarke is going to be moving back to Virginia this summer and starting a cardio fellowship at the hospital in DC,” Wells informs him casually, “it’ll be good to have her around again, yknow? Hopefully we’ll really get to know each other again.”

“Oh yeah?” he tries desperately to keep his voice modulated at a normal tone. “She hasn’t mentioned anything about applying for fellowship anywhere near the east coast.”

“I saw the application in Dad’s things, it’s only a matter of time before Clarke moves back to the east coast...that’s where so many opportunities are for her to advance her career.” Wells nodded, “I believe that is one of the reasons Dad wanted this vacation...he needs to see her in action before he can officially make an offer. But I’m sure it’s just a formality; Dad has plenty of candidates at his own hospital to choose from. Just like Clarke had her pick of places to apply. It almost feels like fate,” he looks so damn happy and wistful, that Bellamy wants to punch him in the face, but he can’t do that. Wells really hadn’t done anything wrong, he’s just joyful at the prospect of getting his childhood friend back.

“Sounds like,” he murmured and tugged the reins a little more forcefully to get back to the Inn as quickly as possible.

\-----------

“Well, looks like you made the right call here,” Nyko grinned, stepping into the small closet-like exam room, Clarke had been studying a chart on the far wall, not like she didn’t already know what it said. She’d hung it there herself, after painting and decorating the room, plus all those years of medical training. “You are already pregnant.”

“What?” Clarke ripped the file from his hands, scanning the results to see that she did in fact have extremely elevated hcG levels, “these numbers can’t be right.”

“Afraid so,” he was still grinning at her, “I ran them twice, as you know one of the side effects with hormonal IUDs is the unpredictability of periods. So without morning sickness or other symptoms, you couldn’t have known.”

“But these are nearly 12 week levels,” she nearly shrieked, she’d been doing that a lot lately, and it really needed to stop, she was not the type of woman to go high-pitched in stressful situations. She was also dealing with way too many situations recently that were stressing her out, “I can’t be nearly 3 months pregnant.”

“It would appear that you are,” Nyko was busy pulling the stirrups from the table, “guess someone had a good birthday, huh?”

“Nyko!” she exclaimed, even as she laid back, she could feel the pinkening of her cheeks at his teasing comment. “Oh my God!” it was pure panic that ran through her as all of her medical training and massive amounts of research she’d done ran through her mind, “This is why they warn you about IUDs...I’m probably going to miscarry in the next 24 hours.”

“No,” Nyko shook his head decisively, “if this baby got through that IUD and managed to hang on this long, they’ve got their parents determination...plus I’m damn good at my job, baby’s going to be nice and snug in your uterus for the next 24 weeks, minimum.”

She took a deep breath and then it hitched as she felt the warm metal of the speculum slide against her. The last thing she needed was to start crying with her feet in the stirrups, but she could slowly feel tears tracking toward her chin from her slightly elevated position.

“Hey, none of that,” he gave a soft pat to her calf as he completed the procedure, “it’s going to be great.”

“Uh huh,” she nodded. Trying and failing to take a deep breath.

“I’m going to leave you here for a minute, okay?” he asked, “and I’m going to lean you back, not let gravity impact things just yet.”

“Old school medicine,” she tried to chuckle, it was one of the things she loved about working in a small town, they tended to get a little more creative with medical solutions, “is Harper working today?”

“Yeah,” he placed a hand on her shoulder, “you want me to send her in?” she nodded steadily, “okay.”

Left alone on the hospital bed, with her legs still in the air and flat on her back, she couldn’t help but let out more tears. She placed a nearly tentative hand against her lower abdomen, and closed her eyes in silent prayer. And then she reached for her ring, to give it a nervous spin only to realize it wasn’t there; and she had no one to blame but herself. She scolded herself, as she ran her right index finger against the bare knuckle of her left hand, she wanted Bellamy at this moment and he wasn’t here because she wasn’t honest with her mother. 

“You know when I suggested Jordan needed a friend, I assumed it was at least another couple years before I’d have you convinced,” Harper greeted in a delightfully light tone; and Clarke let out a laughing sob--causing Harper to immediately settle on the rolling stool at her side and grab her hand, “Hey.”

“Hi,” Clarke let out a sigh, she felt the full effects of her mini breakdown, face swollen and nose stopped up. She blew out a deep breath, letting her cheeks puff out with the air, “Guess Nyko told you?”

“Yep,” she nodded, “I didn’t know you and Bellamy were even thinking about trying for a baby?”

“He’s been patiently waiting for me to decide the timing was right,” Clarke grunted, “Clearly someone else had other plans, my opinion didn’t mean much.”

“Clarke--”

“I know,” she sighed, “nothing is 100% effective, but IUDs are pretty damn close.”

“Which is why you chose it,” Harper reminded her, “no matter, anyway, things happen as they should; and this baby is clearly a fighter. Plus, look at his Dad...with all Bellamy’s been through--this kid’s got some kickass DNA.”

“That’s true,” Clarke smiled, thinkingvof just how strong her husband was, “just imagine the ego when he realizes his guys beat the ultimate last line of defense.”

“We’ll never hear the end of it,” Harper agreed.

“Okay,” Nyko re-entered the room, “I’m sending you home...with orders to rest! But I want you to call me if you experience any spotting--or strong cramping--and come back in after Christmas and we’ll do an ultrasound to see where we are, okay?”

“Yes, thank you Nyko, truly,” she sat up, slowly, with a small grunt.

“Of course, Clarke, now get some rest.”

“Alright, I’m going to drive you back to the Inn,” Harper declared as soon as Clarke emerged from the exam room, redressed.

“You don’t have to do that,” Clarke sighed.

“But I’m going to, and we’re going to ensure you are well rested for the next couple of days,” she insisted, “I know Bellamy will agree.”

“I don’t want to tell him,” Clarke was adamant, she’d changed her mind in the last half hour. Clarke wouldn’t be able to live with herself if she got Bellamy’s hopes up only to find out it wasn’t viable or she had a miscarriage, “not until we know for sure.”

“Clarke, he’d want to know.”

“I know,” she retorted, “I just need to get my head wrapped around all of this and get my Mom and Step-dad out of the picture.”

“And now that you’ve mentioned them,” Harper continued, “when are you planning to tell them you are married?”

“Ugh,” she groaned, “I was hoping, never.”

“Clarke?!”

“Well not never,” Clarke shrugged, “but like in July when I didn’t move back. She would call and I would just casually drop it in conversation. But then they had to show up unannounced.”

“What was it like growing up in your house?” Harper asked with a hint of awe.

“It was great until I was 16 and my dad died,” she smiled sadly, “he was really the glue that held the family together. It’s partly because we are so much alike, me and my Mom, that we clash as much as we do. I just hope that I am not as critical and nit-picky when I become a mom.”

“You won’t be,” Harper declared, “if for no other reason, then the fact that you know what that feels like.” 

“Thanks,” Clarke gave her a tight smile, “for the ride too.”

“Of course,” she nodded. “And seriously get some rest.”

\----------------

When she returned to the Inn, Miller had informed her that Bellamy had in fact taken the horses and sleigh out with her parents and a few other guests. So she trudged up the steps to the room they’d shared the night before and changed into her yoga pants and the flannel he’d left draped over the chair in the corner. He’d worn it the day before, so it was soaked in his scent.

When she awoke several hours later it was already dark outside. She felt an immense sense of relief as she sat on the toilet, her underwear free of any telling stains. It wasn’t until she moved back into the room that she noticed something amiss. All of Bellamy’s things had disappeared from the room and Clarke’s had at least tripled. 

Her heart nearly seized when she spotted the two rings gleaming in the firelight on the dresser top. A note perched beside them that simply stated. ‘Enjoy Virginia…’


	4. Chapter 4

Bellamy felt like he couldn’t get a full breath as he barreled through the Inn’s front door after storing the horses. The more the younger Jaha’s words tumbled around in his brain the more clear things seemed to become to him. Beginning and ending with the fact that Clarke never intended to stick around their tiny rural town, with it’s tiny rural hospital. He felt as if he didn’t really know his wife at all, the more he thought and processed the more realized how little she’d ever really shared of her life before moving to Darby. 

He was shocked to find her asleep on their bed in the room they’d shared the night before. He’d planned to give it to Octavia and Lincoln that night, but he’d been so caught up throughout the day that he hadn’t had a chance to move their stuff or strip the bed. She usually only slept during the day when she’d had a night shift. Her presence paused his thoughts momentairly but, then he realized, it gave him the perfect opportunity. 

He silently moved around the room collecting his clothes and toiletry items, stuffing them into the duffel he’d used to bring their stuff over from the house the day before. He dropped the bag back at the house and just started grabbing handfuls of her clothes; throwing them into the two empty suitcases she kept under her side of the bed. He stared around the room, lost, mostly processing what he was doing before grabbing the framed photos at their bedsides, dropping those in as well.

And as he placed them at the foot of the bed where she slumbered, he couldn’t help but want to reach out and draw her near, to find out why she’d been lying to her mother and keeping secrets from him. Why she’d never even begun to talk about her childhood. But another part of him, the self-preservation part, needed to get out and get away. He’d learned through rounds of therapy and PT that he sometimes needed to take time away and think. To clear his mind and slowly process what was happening around him.

He caught sight of her wedding ring sitting on the dresser, where he’d placed it the night before after taking it from his pocket, as he was about to pass through the open door and marveled at its solitude. The symbolism was not lost him; they were supposed to represent their unending love and devotion; an unending circle, meaning their love had no end and no beginning. But all he could see at the moment was how lost the ring was on the vast surface; alone and gleaming in the firelight.

He caught a glimpse of his own as he reached out for it and before he could process what he was doing, he was holding it in his right hand. He stared hard for several minutes, turning it over gently, reading the tiny ‘I love you-Clarke’ inscribed on the inside. Her words sitting against his skin for the last two years, a lifeline...and then he set it next to hers. The small notepad they kept in each room for their guests sat near the edge and he quickly picked up the pen to scribble a note.

Simply it read, ‘Enjoy Virginia…’

\-------------

She was a spectacle, of that she had no doubt. Her braid was sleep mussed, her clothes clearly slept-in and only warm, fuzzy socks covered her feet. But she still barrelled down the stairs, a woman on a mission. She’d barely taken the time to process his words before charging from the room. There was a knot in her belly and she felt nauseous, she was positive it was not the power of suggestion at work on her subconscious mind.

“Clarke!” her mother exclaimed with surprise when she rounded the banister into the living area. “I didn’t realize you were here?” She really needed to sort _that_ situation out as well. 

“Have you seen Bellamy?” she asked already beginning to side-step her mother; she’d have to wait until later she had much more pressing matters to attend to, “I need to speak with him.”

“Not since our sleigh ride, it really is a lovely, picturesque town you’ve found here.” If Clarke didn’t know better, she’d say the tone was almost wistful and...honest. “But anyway,” Abby appeared to shake herself, waving a hand as if clearing the air around her of the idyllic thought, “I was just about to call you. Some people are here to see you.”

“Wells?” she was truly shocked, when her childhood friend stood from the couch behind her mother, “...and Mr. Jaha, what brings you all the way out here? At Christmastime no less.”

“Well, I wanted to see my childhood best friend,” Wells spoke first stepping around the couch and reaching out to her, “It has been way too long, Clarke.” Wells lifted her off the round with his hug. And she heard a very familiar scoff and spotted Octavia rolling her eyes and heading back toward the kitchen.

“Octavia!” but her sister-in-law merely ignored her, and her mother once again blocked her path after she’d wormed out of Wells’s arms.

“Clarke, Thelonious was shocked when he saw your fellowship application,” Abby pointedly raised her brows, informing Clarke she’d been up to something. And since Clarke herself knew that she hadn’t even looked at east coast hospitals for a fellowship, she could easily guess what her mother was getting at. 

“Yes,” he nodded, never having gotten up from his seat, the large armchair she and Bellamy usually shared to sit by the fire. Clarke followed suit sinking into the other cozy, less worn armchair opposite him, “I didn't know you were planning to follow in your mother’s footsteps in cardiothoracic surgery?”

“I haven’t entirely decided yet,” Clarke was honest, eyeing her mother incredulously...and while she _hadn’t_ decided on a speciality she was heavily leaning toward Emergency Medicine and had _actually_ discussed that with her, “I'm really enjoying the ER though.”

“Well, I have to speak with your current supervisors, of course, but I did want to let you know that pending those formalities the fellowship is yours.” Jaha carried on as if her words didn’t have meaning and he gave her a broad smile showing off those impeccably white teeth she’d always been jealous of as a child.

“Really?!” Clarke was shocked, she knew that a lot of life was all about _who_ you knew and not _what_ you knew, but she figured that at least a pretense of formality would be put up; especially when it came to hiring doctors at major city hospitals,in the nation’s capital no less, “isn’t there supposed to be an interview and vetting process?”

“As I said: fomaility,” Jaha waved his hand, as if to push Clarke’s words aside, “Having you working at our hospital will help bridge the gap across the Potomac and I’m sure give you plenty of opportunity to study under not only Dr, Sydney, but your mother as well. It’s a great opportunity for yourself and both of our hospitals.” And suddenly it all made sense this deal, cooked up between her mother and Thelonious, would not only get her back within her mother’s clutches but also allow Abby access to one of the top hospitals in the country, she’d surely get privileges to work with Diana Sydney if Clarke, daughter of Dr. Abigail Griffin, was working under her.

And before she can even formulate a response, her internal alarm starts blaring at her; It’s like some unexplainable sixth sense, the way she senses when Bellamy is near to her. She stands to glance around as she comes up with an answer for one of her mother’s oldest friends. “As amazing as that opportunity sounds, I’m afraid I have to turn it down. I have a life and a family here, in this town and at this Inn. This has become my home, and I’ve actually already accepted the ER fellowship offer to work right here, again next year.”

“Clarke--” Abby started, pushing to her feet as well, sheer panic crossing her face.

“No, that is a whole nother conversation, for another time,” she cut her mother off with a severe look, “please give the courtesy of a thorough process to the rest of your candidates,” she turned back to Thelonious, “It’s a shame that nepotism and favoritism are more important than your patient’s lives.”

“Clarke--” This time it was Wells and she could see the sympathy in his eyes...but she was already looking away from him.

“Save it, please,” she finally locked eyes with Bellamy just over Wells’s shoulder, “if you’ll excuse me, I need to apologize to my husband.” She makes sure to speak loud enough for everyone within earshot to hear her. Bellamy gives her a sad smile, nodding to the stairs before turning and heading that way, she follows as quick as possible, ignoring her mother’s questioning protests.

\-----------

“Bellamy---wait…” she followed him through the door of their once shared room, pushing it closed behind her, “What is going on?”

“Wells and I had a very enlightening conversation earlier...It made several things very clear to me,” he sighed, placed his hands on his hips, faced her, and took a deep breath. “You are so much bigger than this town, Clarke.”

“Bell--” she tried to reach out to him and brush away his praise at the same time. He held up a hand to stop her motion toward him.

“Let me finish?” she gave him a tiny nod, indicating she was listening, “you are brilliant,” he grinned, the sadness in his eyes contrasting greatly, “amazing at your job and could work...literally _anywhere_ you wanted. You should really consider Mr. Jaha’s offer.” She opened her mouth to protest again, “you said I could finish?” he phrased it as a question, eyebrows raised in hope.

“Go ahead,” she complied, wrapping her arms across her stomach; that knot was back again.

“We know so little about each other,” he sighed, “we’ve been married for almost two years...I didn’t even know that was your mother when she walked in here.” He scoffed, “And Wells is your best friend? I’ve never even heard his name...I met Raven that one time, but you really don’t even talk about her that much!” Bellamy exclaimed, his fingers beginning to curl at his hips, “And your childhood? I mean, you’ve shared a few small anecdotes about your Dad…” he gave her a small, sad smile...he was still such a rough subject for her to talk about, “but like when did you learn to ride a bike? Did you climb trees as a kid? Did you and your mother ever get along? How many boyfriends did you have? Girlfriends? When did you figure out you were bi? All afternoon I’ve been racking my brain trying to replay and remember all of our conversations...and almost always, it is either entirely about me...or about our future...but how can we have a future if we don’t understand our pasts?” he hadn’t moved, hands still on his hips, tightly squeezing at the material bunched there.

“Well let’s see,” she shrugged, “my mother and I don't get along and I don’t enjoy being reminded of that...so I don’t keep her picture around.” She did have a secret folder on her phone of pictures from her childhood, but she really only pulled those out when she had a particularly rough day and Bellamy wasn’t around to comfort her, “Wells and I haven’t been ‘best friends’ since we were 16 and he tried to kiss me, don’t get me wrong, I love him but it is a nostalgia kind of love...Raven is the woman whose boyfriend made me the other woman...we have a bond and yeah we are friends...great friends even, but I don’t see her that often so I wouldn’t call her my best friend anymore, _you_ are my best friend, I think that’s how it is supposed to be... after that it’s probably Harper. You are who I’m closest with...who I _choose_ to be around.” She finished her point, then had to pause and playback his words.

“What else? I taught myself to ride a bike at 9, I climbed a tree once when I was 7 fell and broke my arm, endured lectures about how unladylike it was and never did it again.” It was another painful childhood memory that she didn’t feel the need to relive,her dad had tried to get her to give it another go, but her mother had been so harsh in the treatment of wounds...and her feelings that she’d refused. 

“I’ve dated two guys in my life, Finn--that was Ravens’ boyfriend, and you. One girl, Lexa, really did a number on me, went back to her ex and was married within two months…don’t date girls who tell you upfront that they aren’t over their exes, it never turns out well.”

“Had a total of one one-night-stand--he was a douche. I had a pretty good friends with benefits thing with Niylah for the majority of my first year of med school.” She felt like she needed a list and she could check off the boxes as she answered his questions, “I realized I was bi, when Lexa kissed me at a frat party my sophomore year of college, she was a senior, so probably another red flag.”

“And no, to answer what I think was your main point, my mother and I have never really gotten along, she’s from this world of old money and propriety...is always about appearances, would rather seem to have everything all together and live the idyllic life, then to actually live an idyllic life...my dad used to say, it was the only way she knew how to love because her mother was so cold to her, and I believed him for a while, even after he died, I believed him. How could I not? For someone so kind and loving and full of life, to love someone like her, there had to be more to her that I just wasn’t seeing.” Clarke was plaintive in her explanation, “And I tried: but now? I can’t imagine speaking to _any_ child the way she has spoken to me over the years...much less _our_ child.”

“And the reason I don’t really talk about any of these things is because I’ve put them behind me. They are my past and I’ve learned to let them go, it was how I was able to come out here to start my internship, I wanted to focus on the future and that very quickly included you and I want us to focus on that future together, but if you ever get these burning questions, just ask...I’m an open book.”

“I shouldn’t have to ask!” he cries, and finally throws his hands up, “you should want to share your life with me!”

“I do share my life with you!” she retorted, hastily, “Everyday, _you_ are the one I come home to, _you_ get all my stories from the hospital... _you_ were there through all the crap Indra gave me...made me believe it when Nyko would sing my praises…_we_ eat meals together, celebrate holidays, and birthdays and sometimes just because it is Tuesday. _We_dance around the kitchen in our underwear together...make love together.”

“But we don’t share our pasts...I’m learning all these new things about you, and I can’t help but think that if your mom hadn’t shown up--”

“We have our whole lives!” Clarke interrupted, before he could finish, “we have infinite time...that’s the beauty of marriage, we get a lifetime to learn all of these things about each other.”

“See that’s the thing Clarke, I don’t think we do, we were always on the clock, that’s clear to me now…_go_, take the job from Jaha--enjoy the rest of your life...I just hope that you’ll remember us.”

“Bell--” and just like that he steps around her and out the door.

\-----------

“So, I don’t think I’ve been to a dinner that awkward since you announced you were bisexual and I told Dad I was going to study in England,” Wells finds her nearly two hours later, still in their room. He’s got a bowl of Bellamy’s world famous chili in hand, so she waved him in to join her.

“God Wells! I’m sorry,” she sighed, she’d abandoned the idea of food after Bellamy had left the room, but seeing it in his hand reminded her of just how hungry she was. “How bad was my mom?”

“I’ve seen her worse,” he offered, placing the bowl on the nightstand next to her, before pulling the old wooden rocker closet. It had belonged to Aurora and Bellamy had tried to give it to Octavia to take to their house but she was insistent that it stay with their mother, and the Inn named after her was as close as it go, “It was a lot of silent glaring, really.”

“Ugh,” Clarke groaned, “how did Bellamy take it?”

“He handled himself pretty well,” Wells nodded, but it helped that his sister kept him distracted with some pretty crazy stories.

“That is one thing Octavia has plenty of,” Clarke stirred the bowl, and while she knew she needed to eat, she hadn’t had an appetite until Wells appeared with food, and now she felt ravenous. “You didn’t happen to bring cheese with you?” 

“Damn, he does know you, that husband of yours,” he tossed a Ziploc full of shredded goodness at her lap, “so...speaking of, you have a husband?”

“Yep,” she nodded, “two years next month.”

“Damn Clarke,” he let out a grunted laugh, tossing his head causing the chair to rock back, “guess I should reconsider your secret keeping abilities.”

“Oh my God, I was _six_...I didn’t think it was that big a deal if Julie Matthews knew you had a crush on her--I still don’t actually,” she shrugged.

“Still, two _years_ Clarke? _Years_?” he laughed again repeating years as if that were going to make it make more sense, “When were you planning to spill the beans?”

“Probably never?” she raised her voice at the end, making it into a question, and when he stopped the rocking and gave her a look, she defended, “I just know that she’s going to lecture and rant for hours.”

“You got married without telling anyone!” he retorted.

“I know,” she smiled down at her chili, watching as the cheese slowly melted and began to create the delicious mixture she loved, “best decision I have ever made, honestly. We didn’t even tell our friends here for over 24 hours, which is impressive in this tiny town, literally everyone knows everyone.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this happy, though, so you did something right,” he smiled back at her, “but I also can’t help but notice those,” he nodded toward the dresser.

“Wells, I messed up,” she sighed, “and I’m afraid it is for good.”

“That’s ridiculous,” he countered, “if there is one thing I know about Clarke Griffin, it’s that she doesn’t give up on what she wants---and it’s clear to me, you want to be _here_ and you want to be _married_. Like I said I’ve never seen you this happy.”

“Thanks, Wells,” she smiled, “You are the best lifelong friend a girl could ask for.”

“I know, so first we are going to talk about how to get your husband back, and then we’re going to talk about why we’ve been neglecting this friendship for so long,” she groaned at his laugh and threw her spare pillow at his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you can see, I've updated the chapter count...I'm probably going to do an epilogue for this on Christmas day. But in the mean time I'm open to prompt ideas for days 6-11 of my spontaneous little fic-mas countdown.


	5. Hallmark Ending

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be on the lookout for an epilogue Christmas Day!

She’d slipped her ring on as Wells left the night before and made the decision in the pre-dawn light of Christmas eve-eve that she was going to give him the day to sort things out in his own head and then she was going to bring out the big guns to win him back. So when she started to hear movement of the Inn coming alive with the first glow of the sun’s rays, she decided to head out and get away from everyone.

As she wandered the downtown streets she breathed deep and felt herself relax and she knew she was home. This was where she was meant to be...and contrary to his thoughts, Bbellamy was whom she was meant to be with; have this baby and hopefully a few more with...This was where the rest of her life began. She just had to make Bellamy see that her past and her, quote unquote, _secrets_ didn’t mean anything compared to him, their family, and their future.

“Clarke?” her mother popped out of the small coffee shop she was passing and Clarke couldn’t help but to internally groaned, “I’ve been looking for you everywhere!”

“Town’s not that big, Mom, as you’ve reminded me several times,” she signed, “but I guess we should talk.” She motioned her mother back in to the shop, heading for the counter and the young blonde behind it.

“Hey Clarke!” the young barista greeted, “you want your usual?”

“Actually, I’m feeling festive this morning, let’s go with the cocoa deluxe mint...thanks Charlotte!”

“Of course,” she replied easily, scribbling on a pad and grabbing one of the larger ceramic mugs from the counter behind her, “and for you?”

“I’ll have the same,” Abby smiled politely at the young girl, handing over a crisp $50 and telling her to keep the change.

“So…” Clarke started after they’d found a tiny table in the back, sandwiched between a small children’s play area and two overgrown bean bag chairs, “let’s hear it.”

“Hear what?” Abby asked, feigning confusion.

“Your lecture about--well, everything, quite honestly,” Clarke returned.

“I just keep asking myself where I went wrong,” Abby shook her head, “I know Jake’s death was hard for you, but Clarke--this is ridiculous. You are throwing your future away, for an inn owner in a tiny town in the middle of nowhere...because you made one irrational decision at _26_.”

“First off, it’s not irrational to want to experience the world--”

“I would hardly call this ‘the world’ Clarke,” Abby interrupted as Charlotte placed their drinks in front of them. Two large mugs of peppermint hot chocolate, a pile of whipped cream, finished off with a delightfully decorated sugar cooking cut to hang over the side, “this is huge!”

“It’s the best,” Clarke agreed, dreamily, already licking the cream, “and I don’t disagree with you, but I spoke with several different professors and did plenty of my own research before checking that ‘rural’ box...did you know that small town medicine is where innovation thrives?” She asked, she’d been fascinated to learn, but the more she thought about it, it made sense, “I figured it couldn’t hurt to branch out. I had every intention of returning to a big city hospital for my fellowship.”

“So you haven’t been lying the _entire_ time--that’s good to know,” Abby retorted, a very unladylike snort rising to the surface, “What changed?”

“Bellamy,” she spoke softly, gave a small shrug and couldn’t help but smile as she said his name. “He is so much like dad...he cares about _everyone_ around him and loves so unconditionally--”

“But he’s rooted here,” her mother jumped in to finish for her.

“So am I, Mom,” Clarke still spoke quietly, she didn’t want to raise her voice, “this is my home now, these are my people, and this is where I’m going to raise a family...your grandchildren are going to be small-town people.”

“Clarke, this is ludicrous, you don’t know these people--”

“_You_ don’t know them!” she snapped back, “I know them, I know that Bellamy joined the army at 18 in order to take care of Octavia. I know that Miller and Murphy joined too, just so that they could all watch each other’s backs. Jasper and Monty both deferred college for two years so that they could rent a tiny apartment and Octavia would have a place to live until she graduated. Lincoln moved here when he was nine and Octavia has loved him since then, even though she was only five at the time.” She’d always found their love story the most heart-warming.

“Harper fell in love at college and when Monty wanted to move back here to be close to Mom and his friends, she jumped at the chance to make this her home too,” another love story she absolutely adored. She could see the softening of her mother’s gaze, but Clarke still had more to tell about her found family.

“Bellamy threw himself on top of Murphy in order to keep him from being blown away by an IED. He had hours-long surgeries to remove shrapnel and still only has about 70% range of motion. He also despises hospital and doctors, but yet her married _me_.” She preened at that knowledge like always. “Emori was the army medic that traveled with him from Afghanistan to Germany...she came looking for him when they were back stateside, she fell in love with _Murphy_, of all people, and has never left. Two of the best damn paramedics in over 200 miles. And Nyko and Indra have taken me in, made me into a damn good doctor and I can’t wait to keep working for and with them. I have patients here, one’s whom I know, know their families, know how their kids are doing---Charlotte, for example, is going to take that massive tip you have her and buy something nice for him Mom, she’s probably not going to make it through the spring and she’s trying to make it a memorable Christmas for her mother.” Clarke smiled sadly at the bright, bubbly girl, “this entire town will step up and help out, though, because that’s what we do. This is my home now, Mom.”

“You get that passion from your father,” Abby sighed wistfully, it was amazing how much Jake’s influence still ran through their daughter everyday, “he always said I would drive you away one day.”

“You didn’t drive me away, Mom,” off her mother’s doubtful look, “not entirely...I’ve always felt like I was running towards something and I’ve finally found it.”

“Can you promise me something?” Abby asked after processing her daughter’s words. Clarke nodded, “No more life-changing secrets? I mean Clarke, you’ve been married for almost two years and I’d never even heard you mention the man’s name.”

“I will definitely try,” she smiled, “starting now, you are going to be a Grandma.”

“Oh Clarke,” Abby brushed a hand against her daughter’s cheek, “Really?”

“Yeah, Bellamy doesn’t know yet,” she sighed and just like that she was teary-eyed, “went to have my IUD removed, so that we could start trying, and turns out it wasn’t all that effective.”

“And everything is okay?” Abby questioned.

“So far,” Clarke nodded, “I’m supposed to go in for an ultrasound after Christmas, but I was thinking about swinging by the hospital later today.”

“Can I come?” Abby asked, hopeful.

“Sure,” Clarke smiled, sipping at her drink, “after we finish these.”

“Of course,” Abby put forth a mock seriousness, “now, let’s discuss this _Grandma_ word, I am much too young for that.” 

“Oh of course,” Clarke laughed.

\------------

“Everything okay, Clarke?” Nyko popped up from behind the front desk, when they stepped through the entry of the ER.

“Yes,” she smiled gratefully, “but I was hoping I could get that ultrasound, now instead of later?” she questioned, turning on her pleading eyes.

“Why not?” he smiled kindly, after a moment’s thought, “and who’s joining us?”

“Dr. Eugene Nyko, Dr. Abigail Griffin,” she supplied, “Mom, this is Nyko.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you Dr. Griffin,” Nyko shook her hand sturdily, before turning back to Clarke, “what have I told you about that name?” he grumbled as he held the exam room door open for them, “no Bellamy?”

“I haven’t told him yet,” she shrugged, “just want to make sure everything is okay first, you know?”

He gives her a solid meaningful look, before shaking his head, “I’ll be back shortly, get undressed, you know the routine.”

“This is cute,” Abby commented as she looked over the walls of photos and diagrams, the mural artfully displayed to create an inviting, comforting environment.

“Thanks. Harper and I put in about three weeks to get it all put together,” Clarke called from behind the curtained off corner, “I had to get Bellamy to help build the shelves, but we eventually got it all done and put up.”

She came back around the curtain in a flannel hospital gown, another benefit to their rural hospital, and thick socks. Grabbing a drape, also made of flannel, off the stack in the shelving cabinet Bellamy had made, she then hopped up onto the exam table; draping it over her lap. 

“You always were an artist,” she sighed, “another thing from your father.”

A knock preceded the door cracking open, “you decent Clarke?”

“Hardly,” she snorted, “but I am covered if that is what you are asking.”

“Someone is in a mood today,” Nyko laughed, as he entered the small exam room. “As we discussed yesterday, you hcG levels were in the range for nearing the end of your first trimester, but I’m going to go ahead and do a trans-vaginal ultrasound anyway, so that we can get the best picture possible, okay?”

“Of course,” Clarke had already suspected as much, and laid back as Nyko adjusted the stirrups and setup the equipment.

“I’m also going to need you to relax,” he grinned at her, “let me be the doctor here,” he also sent a pointed look toward Abby, “that goes for you too.” Abby did give him a cursory nod, before he turned back to his equipment, “here we go.”

Clarke was surprised to find herself reaching for her mother’s hand, and Abby gripped her hand tightly, offering her a small smile. “And there we are,” he turned the screen toward them, just a couple of minutes later, “the baby's heart rate is great; and it looks like you _are_ right around the 12 week mark.”

“Wow,” Clarke’s breath hitched, as many ultrasounds as she’d seen since starting med school, none seemed as amazing as the one she was currently staring at.

“It looks really healthy,” Abby murmured, wrapping her free hand around their joined ones, “Can we hear the heartbeat?” 

“Of course,” he tapped the required buttons and the room filled with sound; causing Clarke to let out a small sob.

“Oh baby,” Abby moved forward to wrap her in a firm hug.

“I’m going to print some of these and download the audio file?” he phrased it as a question, directed towards Clarke. She grinned and nodded, couldn’t wait to show Bellamy, “and Clarke...congratulations, again.”

“Thank you, Nyko, really,” she finally pulled away from her mother, using her palms to wipe at her cheeks.

“Anytime,” he winked, “I’ll have all of this out front when you are ready. We’ll figure out your appointments after the new year, yeah?”

“Okay,” she breathed again, and then “wow!” she glanced at Abby with a bright grin.

“I know,” she sent her daughter a knowing smile, “I stared at your ultrasound for days after.”

“It’s just--I mean...wow!”

“Come on,” Abby laughed, not used to a speechless daughter.

\--------------

Clarke spun her ring nervously as everyone of their friends, family, and guests settled around their large brightly decorated tree. It was a Blake family tradition and Bellamy had managed to incorporate everyone who wanted to participate each year. “I just want to say thank you to everyone for indulging us,” Bellamy started, “this tradition dates back as far as my mother could remember, and it seems fitting that it continues every year.”

“Now the rules are simple,” Octavia took over, “You pick one present from the pile,” she pointed under the tree, “and open it...some may have an obvious recipient, some may not...but you get to choose. Who goes first was determined by our resident computer programmer. Monty?”

“First up,” he grinned, pointing to the computer monitor on the check-in desk, “that’s right ladies and gentlemen, Jordan Green!”

“Oh come on, seriously?” Murphy grumbled.

“Learn to program and then we’ll talk,” Monty laughed, and Jordan slapped the first present he came across. Harper quickly rescued the babe and the gift helping him to open it. Laughing when they came upon a set of workman’s gloves, probably intended for Lincoln, but any of the men could easily find use of them.

Clarke herself first opened a fleece onesie, clearly meant for Jordan, had it taken by Harper when her turn came around. She’d then taken a pair of mittens from a grumbling Captain Pike, only to have them taken back the next round, forcing her to choose a new one. That had been a hand carved ring stand, made by Bellamy she was sure, but her mother had quickly snatched it away. Leaving her to debate between the $10 coffee gift card Octavia had held for the last couple rounds, and another wrapped package. Octavia’s death glare sent her back to the pile quickly. She grinned when she opened a set of paintbrushes, clearly meant just for her.

Monty sent her a wink when Bellamy was the last name to be called. One favor called in successfully. And because Clarke knew her husband so well, she knew that he would grab the last unopened gift rather than trade for something else. She’d planned ahead, placing a package among the branches, up just a foot or so from the rest of the presents stacked neatly under the tree. Knowing, or rather believing, no one else would even think it was one of the included gifts, Bellamy would recognize the neat brown paper wrapping she was so fond of using...artfully decorated, depending on the occasion.

“Looks like this one is meant for you Bud,” Bellamy spoke to his Godson showing him the inside of the small box he’d unwrapped.

Harper having leaned over to inspect the gift for herself gave a small chuckle and a wink in Clarke’s direction before pointing at the date, “might want to double check that date, Bellamy.” She pulled the flat ceramic ornament from the box to point out said date to him. “Oh my God.”

“What?” he pulled the box back to his line of sight, before shooting her a look and then turning his eyes back down again, “uhhh…”

“Oh sh--” Octavia peered over his shoulder, curiously, “Really?!”

Before Clarke could formulate a response, Bellamy was across the room grabbing her wrist and pulling her behind him into the kitchen, “Hi!” she breathed when he stopped and turned toward her, “I’ve missed you,” she continued, softly.

“Clarke?” he asked pushing the open package toward her. The ornament she’d hand-painted proclaiming _Baby’s First Christmas_ and a bold _2020_ sat snugly in the tissue paper; beneath the ornament sat a printed sonogram photo, “is this?”

“Yeah,” she smiled, “turns out the IUD didn’t really do its job,” she shrugged. He stared at the photo for several solid minutes. She wished she could see what was processing through his mind, he chewed on his lip; unable to stand the silence much longer, “Are you---”

It was all she got out before his lips were on hers, arms wrapped around her waist. He was kissing her for all he was worth. And then he was lifting her and placing her on one of the serving counters. It felt like coming home, and she’d never really even left.

“Is this for real?” he pulled away from her, not far, just enough to speak, their foreheads together.

“Real as it gets,” she nodded. She then reached for his hand still clutching the present he’d opened, and pulled it in to their line of sight, “this little guy--or girl, is cooking away in here.” This time it was his free hand she placed low on her belly, “has been for a while actually.”

“What?” he perked up, stepping back from her, “how long?”

“Based on blood tests and measurements, Nyko estimates around 12 weeks,” she replied, pulling him back in. Trapping him with her legs, she took the gift from his hand, setting it next to her and then ran her fingers along his, where his wedding ring normally resided, “which doesn’t give us much time to work all of this out.”

“Clarke,” he sighed, “I just--I want to feel like you are willing to share with me.”

“I do,” she replied, “but I understand what you mean, you want to learn more about who I was and where I came from...and I don’t mind sharing all of it; but Bellamy, I need you to understand something.” He nodded indicating he was in fact listening, “No matter what it is you think you need to learn about me and my past...Know that who I am, who I want to be, is always going to be someone you know everything about. Because you do, the fine details might not be there, but I promise you that you know me.”

“I believe you,” he smiled, “I was just hurt, all of a sudden all these people were turning up in my space--our space--and they knew all of these things about you, that I didn’t. Yesterday when you weren’t here, I talked to Wells again, he told me that he felt the same way...he thought he knew all these things about you, but he showed up and you are like a completely different person. It made me realize though, that I don’t care who you used to be. I fell in love with who you _are_, and I’m going to keep loving you because of who you’ll become.”

“Thank God!” she exclaimed at the ceiling before stealing his lips again. And that is how Octavia found them 15 minutes later, when she and Lincoln came in to get started on lunch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I struggled with how to end it...but I always find Hallmark movies rush the ending and then leave you wanting more, so I tried to give it that kinda vibe.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was promised a year ago, and I finally got it done this year, haha. Anyway, hope you enjoy and Merry Christmas to those that celebrate, and happy holidays to everyone.

She comes into awareness slowly, reaching out for the warmth that usually shares her bed, only to find it not there. She then blinks sleepily towards the alarm clock on the opposite side of the bed and is shocked to see it is well past nine. Quickly sitting up, she’s already reaching for the baby monitor before she realizes it’s been turned off. And then she slumps and rubs at her tired face. 

If it’s been turned off that means Bellamy has probably already gotten up and taken care of Gus, but he normally wakes her by at least 8 so he can head over to _Aurora’s_ to make sure everything is handled for the morning. So more than likely it is her mom who has Gus this morning. Grabbing Bellamy’s cardigan discarded at the end of the bed from the night before she wraps it tightly around her middle before heading downstairs in search of her family. 

“Oh you like those pretty lights, don’t you?” Abby is cooing at the baby. They are sitting in front of the Christmas tree, on the floor, Abby cross legged and Gus leaning back against her chest. 

“He’s been enamored with them since we put the tree up,” Clarke answers, joining them, side hugging her mom as she settles and then rubbing a hand against Gus’s peach fuzz hair.

Abby and Marcus had arrived late the day before, and had barely seen Gus before he’d gone to bed, but clearly hadn’t suffered any ill effects of jet lag, “it’s so exciting to experience all this through the eyes of a child again,” she sighed dreamily, draping an arm around Clarke’s shoulders. Gus realizing his Mom was now with them, squeals at her, grinning and then motioning to the tree, telling her all about it in his baby babble, “the tree is not the only thing he is enamored with.”

“He just wants breakfast,” Clarke laughs, catching Gus when he turns and tips forward into her waiting hands, “isn’t that right, buddy?”

“No,” Abby smiles at them, “he ate an hour ago, right before Bellamy left, he’s just happy to see his Mama, aren’t you Gus?”

“Well I won’t complain about that,” she retorts, “Marcus still in bed?”

“Nope,” he answers, stepping out of the kitchen with two mugs in hand, “Bellamy said you preferred sugar, no cream?”

“Oh, you are moving up my list of favorite people Marcus,” she gratefully takes the mug with one hand, keeping Gus away from it with her opposite hand.

“Thanks,” he chuckles, “breakfast will be ready shortly,” he hands off the other mug to Abby, before heading back into the kitchen.

“And Bellamy said he would be back quick,” Abby remarks, using the couch to pull herself up from the floor, sinking back into the fluffy furniture.

“And he is,” Bellamy answers, quickly slipping in the open door, doing his best not to let the cold air in, “I’ll get the fire started real quick and then breakfast, Lincoln and Octavia will be here in about an hour or so.”

“Good morning,” she murmurs, grabbing at his pant leg as he moves to step past her.

He pauses, to squat behind her, laughing when Gus squeals at him as well, “good morning to you too,” he places a quick kiss against her temple and she can’t help but shiver at the chilly tip of his nose brushing against her, “let me get that fire started.”

As he does that, and Abby moves to help Marcus finish up in the kitchen Clarke cuddles Gus close to her chest and soaks it all in. It’s the calm before the storm as soon Octavia and Lincoln will join them, and in the afternoon their friends will all descend upon the inn, but for now she’s going to soak up her Christmas Eve morning with her family and feels truly content.

**Author's Note:**

> There was some research involved here, but not a lot...please know that I have almost no medical knowledge at all.
> 
> So I'm a day late on starting the 12 days of fic-mas; but there will be 2 chapters today.


End file.
